Handkerchief
by AvidAuthor
Summary: Who could know that this little piece of fabric would mean so much? Alternate universe, sort of.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione wished she could stop crying. Of all the things to shed tears over, this was certainly a foolish one.

Despite this, she still wept. It hurt deeply to have someone you admired be cruel to you.

As snot ran down her face and mixed with tears, she wished she had a tissue. Her wish was suddenly granted when a handkerchief was dropped onto her lap. She looked up quickly to see Severus Snape gazing down at her with distaste.

"Clean yourself up, Miss Granger," he said coldly. "You look horrid."

With that he turned and continued down the hall, Hermione staring dumbly after him. She remembered her manners suddenly and called out a quiet thank you, but he either couldn't hear her or simply didn't care. She was guessing the latter.

Dabbing at the snot that had been coming dangerously close to entering her mouth, she looked around her. The other girls who had been slighted were listless, and if they had seen Professor Snape's strange display of...something, they had no interest in anything beyond their own sorrow.

None of them, Hermione noted, had received a handkerchief despite their tearstained faces.

Turning back around, Hermione looked down at the handkerchief in her hands. It was, of course, plain black. No pattern, no Initials, no embroidery, nothing.

Hermione looked back up and gazed down the hall, fingers tightening around the cloth. And interestingly enough, for a moment she forgot all about her sorrow.

* * *

Severus didn't know why he had given the girl a handkerchief. It was a mystery even to Severus himself why he done such a thing or why, when he had seen her hunched over and trembling, he had felt a harsh wave of pity.

Perhaps it was because she reminded Severus of his own schooldays. Young and foolish, with a crush on someone who you really ought not to love. Though, he supposed, that was how most crushes were.

The sad truth was he had not gotten Lilly and Miss Granger would probably not get Weasley. Even if she did, the redhead did not deserve her.

James Potter had not deserved Lilly Evans, and Ron Weasley did not deserve Hermione Granger.

Realizing that he was getting too invested in his students love lives (or his students lives in general), Severus decided that he needed to use his time doing something more productive and headed down into the dungeons to work on a potion.

* * *

Early the next (he looked at a clock and sighed) morning, Severus was startled by a knock on the door. Turning the heat down on a cauldron, he walked quickly over to the door and opened it.

Looking like a frightened puppy, Hermione Granger stood there. She was (thank goodness) in normal clothes.

He gazed down at her, waiting for her to tell him why she was disturbing him at such an hour.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir," she said, her voice unusually soft. "But I thought I should return this."

She held up the handkerchief he had given her. He stared at it for a long moment before looking back at her.

"Why would I need it back?" He asked coolly, preparing to close the door. "It is of no value to me."

But surprisingly, she took a step forward, her eyes tearing up."Sir, thank you so very much."

He watched as she wiped furiously at her eyes. He then took a step back, uncomfortable at the show of emotion. Seeing the look on his face, she dropped the handkerchief in his hand and turned around before hurrying out.

Once she was gone, Severus stared at the black cloth for a long time. He sighed deeply, realizing that he really should finish what he had started.

In all honesty, the thought of going after Miss Granger like some noble Prince wasn't all that bad. _Ha,_ he thought miserably as he walked out. _That's an image._

If there was one thing Hermione was good at, it was pulling herself together and that was what she would do.

Of course, that had been a really stupid thing to do.

Returning a used albeit cleaned handkerchief to a man who despised you? What was she thinking? But in the end, things would probably go back to the way they were before, no change whatsoever.

Hearing footsteps behind her, Hermione Ignored them, assuming it was a fellow student until a hand came down on her shoulder.

Turning around and looking up, Hermione stared into dark and uncertain eyes. Snape placed the handkerchief into her hand and closed her fingers around the soft cloth.

"I think," he said softly, hesitantly. "That you need it more than I."

 _Well,_ Hermione thought, looking away so that he wouldn't see her blush _. Perhaps things wouldn't be the same after all._

* * *

 **A Note:** ** _Through some shenanigans involving the time turner in her 3rd year, Hermione is on the cusp of turning seventeen in this fic._**

 ** _If you've been around a while, you might remember I took down this fic a while back. I have decided to repost it now. Keep in mind that this is sort of a free story, with no certain direction. The characters may sometimes be ooc. But if you have a hint of interest, I hope you stick around._**


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello, Professor. How are you?" Hermione asked, a shy smile settling on her face.

"Fine, Miss Granger. Now get to your seat," He ordered, shooting Neville a dangerous look when the boy stared at them a second too long. "I haven't all day."

Hermione's cheeks flushed and she smiled at the lack of the usual insults. "Yes, sir."

* * *

"Lovely day, isn't it, Professor?" Hermione said softly, looking dreamily at the grass from her place inside the hall.

"Is it?" Snape frowned, glancing up from the plant in his hand. "I hadn't noticed."

"Are you going to watch the Quidditch game today?" Hermione wondered, turning to him. "I think it'll be good. Cedric-"

"Why would I care about Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff?" He shot back harshly, having dropped some of the dried up Hornwort when his Dark Mark burned. _Damn._

"Well, it's fun," she said, helping him pick it up, oblivious to his pain. She stood back up and handed it to him. "You deserve to have fun, sir."

"...I have things to do, Miss Granger. Go on and enjoy yourself." His eyes narrowed at the disappointed look on her face. "Perhaps next time."

Hermione watched him hurry off. "Oh, well...next time, then."

* * *

Snape peered down into Hermione's cauldron. "Good enough, Miss Granger."

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" A wide-eyed Ron whispered after Snape had passed by. "He actually sort of complemented-"

"20 points from Gryffindor for cursing in my class, Weasley," Severus said smoothly, clapping him on the back of the head as he headed back towards his desk.

* * *

Ron glanced back at Hermione, who was having a rather one-sided conversation with Snape outside the potions classroom.

"They've been talking a lot lately," He said, then paled. "You don't think..."

Harry frowned deeply, his tired eyes narrowing.

"Let her do what she likes," he murmured, glancing behind him. Hermione was grinning at something the Professor had said. Harry's frown deepened. "We should let some time pass before we talk to her."

* * *

"Well, I guess you have to watch this game, huh?" Hermione chirped, already decked out in red and gold. "It would seem bad if you weren't there,"

"I suppose I must," Snape said irritably. "If one of you foolish Gryffindor's cheat-"

Hermione smirked, and Severus was reminded fiercely of himself. Was he a bad influence?

She smoothed her hair down. "Us, cheat? Ha! Because Slytherins _never_ do that."

Silence.

* * *

"Professor! It's been a great game so far, hasn't it?" Hermione said loudly, standing precariously on the edge of the tower next to an amused McGonagall.

"Miss Granger, sit back down before you take a fall. Or get hit by a Bludger," Snape snapped, reaching towards her. "Miss Granger, I am not joking!"

"What do you mean-Agh!" She stumbled when the ball hit her forehead, and Snape caught her arm right as she toppled over the edge.

* * *

"Oh Severus, thank goodness you caught her! She would have much worse than a bruise if you hadn't," McGonagall cried. Her arms were wrapped around her favorite student.

The man in question nodded and started towards the door. "Yes. I'll let you calm her now, Minerva."

"Wait, Professor!" Hermione cried, and he stopped and glanced back.

"Yes?" He asked, and his eyebrow rose in question.

"Thank you very much, sir," she said quietly. "You...You saved my life, sir."

"...Of course, Miss Granger," he said sharply. Then, the corners of his mouth crept up. "Anytime."

* * *

"I always thought you rather intelligent, Miss Granger," Snape remarked, leaning against the wall. "But that rather clashes with what you are doing right now."

"Oh, Professor!" Hermione gasped, tearing her eyes away from Viktor Krum and his pack of women. "I didn't notice you. You're so quiet!"

He smirked.

"Indeed," he hummed. He then glanced at Krum with distaste. "Tell me: are you in love?"

Hermione blushed deeply, and Snape sneered. "Just as I thou-"

"You have it wrong, sir!'' Hermione insisted. "He isn't like what you think he's like. He is nice to me."

"Hn." Snape left in a huff.

* * *

"Hello, Hermione!" Cedric said, patting her shoulder.

She gave him a suspicious look. "What do you want, Cedric?"

Cedric smiled until he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He spun his head around and met eyes with Severus Snape.

Cedric (or the most part) stayed out of Snape's hair. The Potions Master barely spared him a glance and Cedric treated him the same.

Now it seemed he had stepped on a snake because the older man was shooting him such a venomous look Cedric actually took a step back.

He chuckled nervously. "Uh, nothing. I'll find Harry by myself. Thanks!"

* * *

"Professor?!"

The panicked cry echoed around his classroom, and Severus hastily covered the Dark Mark before shooting the girl who had just entered a scathing look.

"Miss Granger, wipe that snot off your face this instant," he ordered, making sure he was clean of any blood.

"But Cedric..." She began her voice breaking.

"...I know," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "It was a tragedy."

Hermione's bottom lip trembled and she pulled out her favorite black handkerchief. Snape frowned at it.

"Sir..." She said faintly. "You-Know-Who's back, isn't he?"

When Snape spoke next, his voice might have trembled. It was hard to tell. "How am I supposed to know?"A shaking hand discreetly tucked his mask beneath his robes. "I haven't the faintest."

* * *

"Farewell, Miss Granger," Severus said stiffly. He had never been one for sappy goodbyes. "Enjoy your summer, if you must,"

"You too, sir, "Hermione said kindly, stepping aside to let a Ravenclaw pass."Sleep if you can."

Severus scowled. "Whatever do you mean?"

Hermione had such an earnest expression on her face when she smiled, free of the usual distaste. "I'm not blind, Professor. I see the circles under your eyes."

He looked back at her and hesitated. "...Go on now, you foolish girl," Snape said hastily, though it came out less severe then he wanted. "You'll miss the train."

Hermione smiled sadly. "All right. Goodbye, sir."

* * *

Severus stood on the platform long after the train was gone, and wondered why he felt so wistful.

* * *

 _ **Reposted.**_


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione first heard of Professor Quirinus Quirrell's return to Hogwarts via the Daily Prophet.

She was sitting on the Hogwarts Express with Harry and Ron, though the two were paying her no attention, preferring instead to gossip about Cho (mind you, any moment when Harry didn't look close to tears was a good one in Hermione's opinion, so she didn't mind), when she spotted an article about Quirrell.

Her eyes widened. She had honestly thought the former Professor dead. After all, one doesn't just share a body with a dark wizard and come out feeling like new.

It seemed that the man had somehow managed to come out unscathed physically, but was damaged mentally in a way probably never to be repaired. Dumbledore had apparently taken pity on him and invited him to Hogwarts as a sort of right hand man to Filtch.

Hermione frowned and set the paper down on her lap. Well, at least now she had something to think about on the ride there.

* * *

Hermione stepped into Hogwarts and was immediately hit by the sight of Professor Quirrell huddled against the wall.

 _Oh dear._

The noble Gryffindor in her surged, and she hastened to his side.

"Professor, are you all right?" She whispered, hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder. He jumped and looked at her.

"M-M-M-me?" He asked nervously, before seemingly recognizing her. "Oh, M-Miss Granger, is it? I'm afraid I am just a little l-l-lost."

Hermione smiled kindly at him, seeing the fear in his eyes.

"I'd be glad to take you to the Great Hall," she said gently. "But why didn't you ask one of the teachers for help? Look, Professor Snape's right over there!"

She smiled brightly at the dark clothed man lurking a few feet away and waved discreetly. He inclined his head before beginning to approach.

Quirrell paled considerably, and for a moment Hermione was worried he might faint, so she took his hand.

"What's wrong, sir?" She worried, leaning in close. He glanced at her but before he could answer, Snape was upon them. He looked disdainfully at their joined fingers and stepped between them, facing Quirrell. Hermione's hands fell back to her sides.

The Potions Master crossed his arms, towering over the smaller man. "I have been looking everywhere for you."

Quirrell shot her a panicked look and Hermione quickly took a step forward.

"Would it be okay if I accompany you?" She suggested softly. "I am, after all, heading to the hall as well."

Snape hesitated for a moment before nodding, and the three set off, Hermione between the two men.

Hermione glanced to her right as they walked. Snape was staring straight ahead, his gaze fixed on their destination. Honestly, Hermione was not surprised that he was treating her coldly. It was simply his nature.

After the handkerchief last year, they had begun a hesitant friendship, though that may be too strong a word. Perhaps Acquaintanceship was a better way to describe it. Still, Hermione had always been appreciative of friends, close or otherwise, and it was sad that he did not seem inclined to continue with the relationship. Still, she would manage.

They made it to the Great Hall and Hermione smiled at them both before starting towards her seat.

"Miss Granger." She stopped mid-step at the sound of Snape's quiet voice.

He took a breath, starting away and brushing against her as he passed. "Do avoid the pudding. The house elf who made it is rumored to be new."

She smiled at her shoes. "Thank you, Professor. I will."

* * *

Dumbledore announced Professor Quirrell's arrival (there were a great many whispers and the poor man looked scared out of his wits. Hermione did her best to give him an encouraging smile), and then proceeded to introduce Dolores Umbridge.

If her tacky pink clothes, the part she had played in Harry's trial or the way she interrupted Dumbledore weren't clue enough that Hermione was going to dislike her immensely, the way she smiled condensingly at Quirrell and smirked at Snape set Hermione's blood boiling.

She stared at the woman, her eyes narrowed, and the wine glass Umbridge was holding shattered in her hand. The woman sputtered with shock and it was Snape's turn to smirk and say how he had no idea how such a thing might have happened, and oh, would she like a napkin?

In the middle of this, he glanced at Hermione and discreetly pointed at his plate, cheeks twitching with amusement even as his face remained cold as stone.

Hermione looked back down at her food hastily, a wild grin on her face.

Ron noticed her expression. "Blimey, Hermione, are you all right? You look like you've gone mental."

"I'm perfectly fine, Ronald," She sniffed, wincing with disgust at the food flying from his mouth. " I just saw something funny, that's all."


End file.
